Summit School - Flame Yearbook (St Paul, MN)

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4 my purse, where was my purse? Frantically I felt for it and found it reassuringly safe under my pillow. I turned toward the window again. Darkness. But this time broken by a flash of light. I wondered where we were and what sort of people lived here. What were they doing at this very minute? And as I watched the bright dots skim by, a feeling of bewilderment swept over me. Why was I born to be me, to live at S11 Grand Avenue, St. Paul, Minnesota, U. S. A.? Why was I not born in China or India or this little North Dakota town we were passing through? How did it happen that I wasn't listening to the rush of the train from one of the little lighted houses instead of lying there in the darkened berth? The lights streaked by and the mood passed with them. I lay back and threw my arm over my eyes. The small sounds again took control of my consciousness-the wheels clicked on and on, the ventilator hummed, a gentle snoring came from above, the car creaked and swayed. Pink trip slip for a one-cent fare, Blue trip slip for a two-cent fare, Punch, Bro-thers, punch with care. SHIRLEY WRIGHT Form V Blackout O MATTER how much homework you have, you can't do it during a blackout. Come outside with me. I removed myself from a pile of books and followed my next door neighbor out of doors. The fall temperature was just cool enough to make the occasional gusts of warm air welcome. I felt gay and invigorated and skipped down the walk. Let,s go over to the bluff? I laughed, How to behave in a blackout-rule three-stay indoorsf, Who cares? Daddy is an air raid major, and he gave me permission to be out. If anyone questions us, just say that we,re official plane spotters. Singing the chorus of Semper Paratus we marched to the bluff. Here I had often come to look at the lovely view. Far to the left was the ostentatious downtown district. A searchlight at the airport flashed its powerful rays over the horizon. In the valley a factory was sending forth its usual cloud of smoke. Streetcars clanked hurriedly by. The view was the same, but I was different. I was excited. Suddenly from nowhere came the unsteady drone of a whistle. Its steadiness increased directly with its volume. It was joined by whistles from every direction, just as when a horn begins a melody and then is accompanied by other instruments, each contributing a different tone and resonance to the main theme. These whistles were not playing a pleasant tune. It was foreboding. In a few minutes the vast, seemingly uncontrollable mass of lights was extinguished as though one had taken an eraser and with a sweeping movement had removed all the marks on a blackboard. A few minutes ago we had been talking in loud voices, but now I felt compelled to whisper. Everything was so still that I jumped at the rustling in some nearby leaves. A mist hung suspended over the valley and produced an eerie effect. The moon sent its unfeeling sheen on the Mississippi. The gray sidewalk was visible for a few yards and then disappeared. I was standing looking at a ghost town. The serious voice of an air raid warden aroused me from my thoughts. Hey, Walter, did you report the light in the Croydon's house? This was war. I was gazing not at a dead city but at one wide awake and prepared for the exigencies of today. As the all-clear sounded, the street lights went on. Little dots of light appeared in the valley. Before long, red and green signs were flashing off and on downtown, and the streetcars had resumed their clanking. I returned home to my studying. Life had not changed. After all, we had experienced only a test blackout. KITTY JACKSON Form VI 26 THE FLAME

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cake of soap with a girl's faceipainted on it, which could be hung around his neck. He said with oaths that he would leave that terrible deal at home. Mary came just before nine. She looked tired, as though she hadn't slept all night, and she was wearing the white dress that David had given her for her birthday. Dave turned down most of Mother's comforting items, but he stuffed his new electric razor into the pocket with the toothbrush. He scorned the books and news- papers that Mother was taking to shorten the tiresome train ride. I was glad that I wasn't going to the station. Goodbye's began: some grinning suggestions to Selma about her Charlie, already on the seas, and a vain attempt to cheer his dog, Booty, who was moping under the hall table. Then Mother decided firmly that David must kiss me goodbye. David is very handsome, but he's my brother, and it's the principle of the thing. We satisfied Mother with a quick peck and a short valedictory. I said something like So long, Dave. If you meet any good-looking sailors, send me their pictures. Dad with news- papers, Mother with books and a clean shirt from the hall table that David might want at the last minute, Mary with her arm through David's, and Booty, whom Dave couldn,t very well leave behind, filed quickly out onto the cold porch. Mother turned back because she had forgotten some postcards, Dad called loudly, l'Come on, Mother. We'll be latevg and Mother hurried out with the postcards. Some cold air sneaked in behind them and nestled in the corners of the hall to get Warm. I hurried into the library to watch them from the window just as the car doors pulled shut. A white cough of exhaust showed against the snow, the automobile shook the frost impatiently from its wheels and lurched around the corner toward the alley. The library window was cold against my face. There was a wide, brave sticker on it that announced, There is a man from this family in the Navy. SYLVIA BURNS Form IV Pullman Night ITH a sigh I turned over and pulled up the shade. I had known I would see nothing, but faced with the actual and impenetrable blackness, my sense of aloneness increased. What was out there beyond my dusty window? Nothing familiar, surely, no one interested in me. Each turn of the wheels beneath me, each lurch of the car carried me farther from all the easy intimacy of home. Would I like it where I was going? Would they like me? Would someone be at the station to meet me? If only I could be at home again! But even as I thought it, there was a relief somehow in not being able to turn back, in having no control over the train's progress. I rolled over again, taking the bed-clothes with me and leaving my back cold and bare. Putting my arm around the pillow, I firmly shut my eyes and waited for the monotonous rumble of the wheels to lull me to sleep. The car creaked from side to side, the air-conditioning hummed, someone swished softly down the aisle, brushing against the heavy green curtains, and from a distant berth came a muilled -but I'm thirsty, Mama. As I listened to the click of the wheels, a silly little verse Mother had once told me came into my head: Punch, Brothers, punch with care, Punch in the presence of the pass-en-gere. Pink trip slip for a two-cent fare, Blue trip slip for a three-cent fare, Green trip slip for a four-cent fare. Who had written that? Mark Twain, perhaps? I had to get to sleep, I musn't be tired tomorrow. Tomorrow! Would I be able to change trains all right? Would I get off at the right place? Did I still have my ticket? Yes, it was in my purse. But THE FLAME 25

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l l Qgmky 'j cf Lonely ANE shifted her book and crossed her other knee. As she dicl so, she glanced across the aisle at the sergeant. Still looking at her. Would he never stop? She looked down at her book again, but she couldn't read. It was making her nervous and embarrassed to have that boy stare at her so much. She looked out the window. It was terrible weather. The sky outdoors was so dark and gloomy that the porter had had to leave the lights on all day. As she looked now, she suddenly saw the boy's reflection in the glass. She couldn't distinguish his eyes, but his face was turned toward her. He certainly was good-looking. She decided that she needed a few new tactics. She turned toward him, looked him straight in the eye, and smiled-radiantly, she hoped. His eyes shifted a little, and she realized that they were shy eyes-very deep and brown. Maybe he would be nice, but why did he have to stare so? Isn't the weather disgusting? she tried. Yes. Where are you going? Omaha. She thought that would be all she could get. But I wish I Weren't. I've just been home on leave for the last time. My cousin is on this train too, but he's too much of a 'slap-happy' for me. All the men in my et barracks are the same Way. At this moment a more round and jolly-looking soldier came rolling down the aisle. As he came up to the sergeant, he stopped with his hands on his hips and said, You're the picture of melancholy. Why don't you come down to the club car and have a few with me-pick up your spirits. 'Tm sorry, Jake. I don't feel very gay today. Oh, come on. You're only goin' to a war. And besides, our sidelll finish up before you know itf' he urged. By the way, who's the doll sittin' over there? I don't know. Jake turned toward Jane, My name's Jake. This is m' cousin Bill. Mind if I sit down? He sat down beside her as she tried to move unobtrusively closer to the window. She didn't know quite what to do. He clapped his hand on her knee in a friendly way and said, Come, now. You haven't told us your name, Girlie. Jane, she said abruptly and stood up, preparing to ask him to leave her and to tell him hotly that she wasn't the type of girl he Wanted. He must have seen the storm coming, for he got up quickly and Went away, saying cheerfully, See you later, Bill. You're missing a lot of fun. Jane sat down with a sigh and looked at Bill. He smiled kindly and said, I'm sorry he was such a bother. That's all right. I guess I'm just not experienced enough. He stood up and came over to her. I really think I feel better now. Seeing that you didn't like him, I realized that I Wasn't the only one in the world like me. I've been discouraged because the group I'm in are all like Jake. Would you like to have lunch with me? She nodded and laughed, 'tLook! we're going around Horseshoe Bend. We'll have to have our 'train legs' walking to the diner. ALLISON BUTLER Form VI THEFLAME U